Leather Last Forever
by Isabelle
Summary: Short piece, set some where in Season 6. It's a B/S piece--no real plot, I just skipped t the good part *g*


Leather Last Forever by Isabelle **Leather Last Forever** by Isabelle 

Rating: VERY STRONG *R* 

Summary: Read…it's a short vinagrette. No plot just showing the perfection that is Spike and Buffy. 

Spoilers: None 

Authors Note: please send feedback g [][1]bih80@yahoo.com

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_I was told I could find you in this alley_

_But I was not warned I would lose myself forever_

She didn't know when she had given in, when her eyes had simply closed and she had accepted it. When her mouth had parted and his cold tongue had made her shiver with delight. When she had felt his hand tangle itself in her golden hair, gently massaging her scalp as his tongue slid in and out of her soft warm mouth. 

She didn't know when she had wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, when she had sighed with complete contentment and let her soft, swollen breasts melt into his hard chest. 

Rough hands bruised her body as she eagerly begged for more. Harder. Rougher. 

Before she knew it she was panting in ecstasy. Legs spread, firm body between them, pounding into her as she gasped and moaned under him. 

Touching. Touching his chest, his arms, his back. 

Melting. 

Surrendering. 

It seemed like years until it was over. Until she slumped down on the bed with him almost unconscious on top of her. 

Sweat, blood, and juices between them. 

She felt him licking her navel, around her belly button and up her chest. 

Kissing her lightly on the breast, he worked his way up to her face. 

Taking her face in his hands, he gently kissed her cheeks and eyelids. Peppering her nose and forehead with loving kisses. 

She just lay there, enjoying his attention. Loving everything that was him, treading her fingers into his soft hair, letting the curls tease her fingertips. 

"I like your hair this way," she whispered into his ear and he lay his head at the crock of her neck. 

She felt him smile into her neck, low grumbling chuckles tickled her belly. 

"What?" she asked softly, enjoying his finger playing with her hair locks. 

"You…already tryin' to change me." 

She looked down at him. His pallid lids had little thin green veins running through them. He was so white, almost transparent. 

She reached out touched the thin lids, tickling her finger with his long lashes. 

He took her fingers in his hand and kissed the tips slowly and gently. 

"I love you," he whispered, barely audible. Afraid that she might tense, that the perfect moment might end. That this was a dream and he would wake up in his bed…alone. 

But the fear was cut short when he felt her hands gently pulling him up to meet her. 

He faced her, fully aware of her reaction and bracing himself for the one thousand pieces his heart would break into within a few moments. 

"Why do you love me?" she whispered into the dark room. But her could still see the liquid deep of her eyes, shinning softly in the gray of the room. 

He didn't meet those eyes. They were too painful to look at—large and begging for security. 

"Don't know…" he said kissing her neck. 

She ran her hand through his hair and gently rested it on the back of his neck. 

Her thumb delicately stroked the small hair at the nape of his neck. 

"Really?" she asked him, trying to meet the eyes that were avoiding her. 

"Well, I know, but it doesn't matter," he said. "But it's ok, I mean, I knew what I was getting myself into." 

Sadness was the only word to describe his voice and the way his eyebrows sagged slightly against that pallid skin she was quickly beginning to love. 

"Did you?" she asked still studying that face. A face she had looked at so many times, yet never really saw. 

Sharp cheekbones that softened when he felt vulnerable and exposed. 

He lifted himself from the bed, and the coldness of the room filled her as his presence left her. 

"Spike…" 

He hunched over the bed, looking for his jeans, quickly tugging on his ratty t-shirt. 

"Listen, Slayer," his tone was harsh as he pulled up his jeans, leaving the top button undone so they hung lightly, low on his narrow hips. "I get it. I really do. Just don't look at me as if you care." 

Buffy covered her bare chest with the thin blanket. "That's not what this was about, Spike." 

He looked back at her. Her hair was standing up on its ends. Bed hair. Her eyes were shadowed by the streaky mascara that ran down her pale cheeks. 

Thin powerful arms, grasped the sheet tightly—indignation filled her eyes. 

He grabbed his thick boot and shoved his foot into it. "Right, then. When you find a name to call it, let me know." 

Another boot on another bare foot. 

She stood up, wrapping the blanket over her thin frame, making her look like a Greek goddess. Aphrodite was a killer. 

She stood in front of him, eyes searching his. 

He sighed and finally met her gaze. 

"Will you come back tonight?" she asked him, not knowing anything else to say in the weird situation. 

He lifted his head, a bit sharper, a bit prouder. "No." 

She felt little Goosebumps appear on her skin. 

Her bottom lip trembled as she watched him walk out, leaving behind his duster. He never left without his duster. 

She watched the door close behind him. The leather felt cold and inviting under her fingers and she hugged the leather to her body. Cold droplets of tears wet the leather as she curled herself into a ball of misery. 

Smoke and musk was his scent. Like an old pair of jeans that you loved yet hated. The kind you could never part from. 

She knew he would leave. She knew she would never see him again. Tonight had been her dream and her nightmare. 

Cold leather under her fingers. 

Memories of a night. 

Sobs. Sobs that wrecked her body, making her shake uncontrollably. 

"Spike…" she whispered in to the black material. 

Over and over she whispered his name begging him to come back, begging him to stay away. 

She fell asleep. Misery clouding over the moments of pleasure that had filled her life seconds ago. 

That's how he found her. Halfway to his car he realized he had left his coat. 

He knew tonight had been the last night—he knew what they did from that moment in the Bronze was the turning point. 

He had not been able to control himself when she had offered herself so willingly. 

But now he found her curled up in a little ball. Small and shivering against the cold of the night. 

He could see the dried tear tracks on her face as she sniffed softly in her tormented sleep. 

He didn't have the heart to leave. These days that was all he had left. 

He sunk down next to her, wrapping his arms around her bare shoulders. 

She opened her eyes, still heavy with sleep. 

"Spike?" she whispered. 

"Yeah, baby, I'm here." He gently tugged a stray hair from her face and tucked it behind her delicious ear. 

"I love you…" she said as she closed her eyes. 

He just sat there…more like leaned there...shock filled just gazing at her face. A face that buried itself into his leather coat. 

"And I know why…" she continued to whisper. He thought he should shut her up; sleep was making her say things she didn't mean. He knew she didn't mean them. 

But his mouth had other thoughts as he urged her on. "Why?" He asked her. 

"Cause…" a little yawn from a small, pink mouth. "You…don't leave…" 

He felt a smiled crawl to his face as she started to breathe normally, completely exhausted. 

Without further thought, he shed his clothing and joined her in bed. Muscled arms wrapped themselves around her, protecting her from those that would harm his girl. 

He felt her stir under him and looked down at her face. 

She had awoken. Tear filled eyes looked questioningly at him. 

"I though you were leaving," she told him. 

"I did," he said and kissed her. "But I came back." 

She looked at him and understood. 

"I'll make you want to leave many times." She told him. 

"But you'll make me want to stay many more others." 

She looked up at him, eyebrow arched. "You were going to leave your coat." 

"Nah…wouldn't let go of that ol' thing if I wanted to." 

"Why?" she questioned him but he knew understood the double meaning behind her innocent question. 

"Don't you know?" he asked her. "I'm the long haul guy." 

She smiled. "Yeah…I know." 

She looked down at the leather. "It's old and worn." 

"Well, pet," he said as he settled in next to her. "You know what they say…leather last forever." 

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AWWW…sweet, fluffy, sappy…enjoy it g   


   [1]: http://us.f98.mail.yahoo.com/ym/Compose?To=bih80@yahoo.com



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